


Take Me

by ladymac111



Series: And The Rest Is History [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Time, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymac111/pseuds/ladymac111
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys return from Scotland, and Sherlock decides that he's ready.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me

**Author's Note:**

> I promised you a first time, and here it is :)

“Where are you going?”

John paused, one foot on the steps leading up to his room on the second floor. “To put my stuff away?”

Sherlock's brow furrowed. “You're not … you're going to stay up there?”

_Oh. Right_ . He stepped back down onto the landing. “Only if you want me to.”

“Why would I want you to stay upstairs?”

“So you like having me in your bed?”

Sherlock made a face like that was the stupidest question he'd ever heard. “Of course I like having you in my bed. I think the last week has made that fairly obvious. Put your bag in my room. We can move the rest of your things later.”

John's legs followed, even though his mind wasn't totally sold. “So I'm moving in with you?”

“You moved in with me four years ago. We're just sharing a bedroom now.”

“Yeah, _your_ bedroom.” John stopped at the threshold, reluctant to go in.

Sherlock set his bag on the bed with an exasperated huff. “I'm certainly not moving upstairs. This is by far the better bedroom, and I want you to share it with me.”

With great effort, John stepped into the room, and breathed deeply. “Okay. So as of right now, this is not  _Sherlock's room_ any more. This is  _our room_ . That means half of the room is for me. Since you were here first, I'll let you pick which half.”

Sherlock's eyes sparkled. “It's a big decision. Do I have to choose right now?”

“Well I have to know where to put my … things.”

Sherlock had closed the gap between them while he was talking, and John dropped his bag when Sherlock's hand came up to stroke his cheek. “Welcome home, John.”

That one, strange sentence was so  _right_ that all John could do was shiver, and his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the touch. Sherlock leaned down and kissed him, slowly, deliberately. John responded likewise, fisting his hands in Sherlock's clothing and drawing him close in a way that he hoped would never,  _ever_ get boring.

Sherlock pulled back with a soft gasp and tugged John to the bed. He shoved his bag onto the floor, then sat and looked up at John. “Take me?”

“What?” It came out as a startled gust of breath.

“Take me, John.” Sherlock reached up and unbuttoned John's cardigan.

John was still for a moment, and then suddenly his brain caught up and he lunged at Sherlock, pressing him into the mattress and devouring his mouth with kisses. Sherlock's hands never stilled, stripping John of one item of clothing after another until he was half naked, trousers and pants pushed down to his knees, his erection hanging heavily between his legs. He let out a strangled moan when Sherlock wrapped his long fingers around it. “Oh, fuck. Take off your clothes, you arsehole, before I come on your suit.”

Sherlock slipped out from underneath him, and dropped his clothing in a hasty pile while John pried his shoes off and finally removed the last of his garments.

For a long moment they regarded one another, both completely bare, both fully erect, both flushed with desire. John took the first step, Sherlock the second, and they pulled one another back onto the bed. John found himself on top, pressing kisses all over Sherlock's face and neck as the man squirmed and gasped beneath him. Sherlock spread his knees and John forgot how to breathe as he laid his body against Sherlock's. Sherlock rocked his hips, and John's breath came back all at once. “Holy shit.”

“I have some lube,” Sherlock panted. “Do you think it would be good?”

John had to fight to make the English language work for him. “Can't hurt.”

Sherlock reached for the drawer in his bedside table. “You've never done this before.”

“Why do you have lube?”

“It's good to be prepared.” Warm hand, cool liquid, and they slid against one another smoothly.

John bit his lip. “It is good.” His head fell into the crook of Sherlock's shoulder as his hips moved of their own accord. “God, I'm not going to last.”

Sherlock gasped and his hands slid down John's back to grip his ass as they rocked together again. “I … oh … John ...”

“Fuck ...”

Sherlock's grip was desperate and his cock rubbed against John's in a way that he never imagined could feel so good. For his part, John simply tried to keep pace and  _don't come, not yet, hold on, wait for him, just a little more …_

“Ah!” Sherlock's body tensed and spasmed; his back arched and pressed into John, who gave up on control and lost himself in the waves of ecstasy with cries of his own, muffled against Sherlock's neck.

When the urgency finally subsided and John began to feel lethargy creeping in, he peeled himself off Sherlock and flopped beside him on the bed, still gasping and reeling. For a long time the only sound was their ragged breathing, and, John imagined, the synchronized pounding of their hearts.

He felt Sherlock shift, and cracked his eyes open to see the other man propped up on his elbows, taking in the mess of fluids that were splattered on his belly and matted into his pubic hair. His expression was equal parts fascination and disgust, and without meaning to, John was laughing. This earned him a quizzical look, which only made him laugh harder. Sherlock cracked a smile, as if the absurdity of sex finally made sense to him. He grabbed a pair of tissues, and dropped one on John's chest before half-heartedly mopping at himself. “So,” he sighed.

“Yeah,” John agreed.

Their hands came together; their fingers interlaced and they relaxed on the bed –  _their_ bed – in blissful ignorance of the rest of the world.


End file.
